by Donna Grant
“I destroyed worlds, Cael. My power feeds on the physical act of war itself. I swung my sword, uncaring who was at the end of the blade. All I wanted was blood and death and destruction. I didn’t stop until a realm was annihilated.”
He dropped his arms to his sides. “To be frank, it’s the Mistress of War that we need right now. If Bran succeeds in killing you, he’ll be the one destroying Earth.”
“I came to the same conclusion. That’s why I decided to get the sword.” That and to protect the Reapers, despite the repercussions that brandishing the blade might bring. “Though, I’m not anxious to use it.”
“You’ll be fighting for yourself and all you’ve created here. Not to mention the Fae, Halflings, and even the humans.”
She nodded. If only Bran would forget about the Reapers. If she could know for sure that he would be satisfied with her death, she would accept her fate. But before she gave up her life, she would go to Constantine, the King of Dragon Kings. Because there was no way the Dragon Kings would stand by and let anything destroy their realm.
But Bran wouldn’t stop with her. His hatred extended to the Reapers because he knew how much she cared for them. And to hurt them would be like tearing out her heart.
“You were right,” she said.
Cael quirked his head. “About?”
“You said I should’ve killed Bran instead of putting him in the Netherworld. I believed the prison would hold him.”
“That was a long time ago, and I was angry,” Cael said. “I wanted vengeance for what Bran had done to us and you. The Netherworld would’ve held him had Seamus not released him.”
Her gaze followed a hummingbird as it flew past her to drink from a flower.
“Did you get all the information from Seamus? Should we question him again?”
Erith inwardly cringed. “Seamus isn’t here.”
A muscle ticked in Cael’s jaw. “Did he escape?”
“No one leaves here if I don’t wish it.”
Cael looked away, seeming to fight to control his anger. “Why did you let him go?”
“So he could get close to Bran. Seamus was supposed to find you and tell you his plan.”
“He didn’t. Which means, whatever he found out from you, he’s going to tell Bran.”
“Seamus won’t betray me.”
Cael’s head slowly swung back to her. “I don’t have your faith in him. The vision I saw of the coming battle? Seamus was with Bran.”
“Where he’s supposed to be.”
“If I see him, I’m going to kill him.”
She closed the distance between them so much, she had to lean her head back to look up into his eyes. “No, you won’t.”
“Was this plan your idea, or Seamus’s?”
“Seamus.”
Cael shook his head and gazed into the distance. “That’s what I thought. He deceived you.”
“What if he didn’t? What if he will help us?”
“Then why didn’t he tell me what he was doing as you bade him?” Cael demanded, his silver gaze boring into her.
She shrugged. “I don’t know. If he’s going to betray me, then let him.”
“Is there anything he could’ve found out here that would help Bran?”
Erith thought of the book Seamus had brought to her—the volume about her, the Mistress of War.
“You’re taking too long to answer,” Cael stated, his gaze narrowed.
“There might be something.”
Anger simmered in Cael’s eyes, but he never let it into his voice. “What was it?”
“There is a book.”
“About?” Cael pressed.
She gave him a pointed look.
He let out a loud snort. “About you. Dammit, Erith. If there were any secrets in there, Bran now knows them.”
“That book was written by a Fae who knew very little about me, other than that I loved war. It details all the realms I ended, and all the lives I took.”
Cael took a deep breath, his chest expanding as the air filled his lungs. “So there could be a chance Bran doesn’t know you’re the Mistress of War?”
“I can’t answer that for sure. I don’t know how he’s draining my power.”
“And your life,” Cael added.
Erith nodded. “And my life. Once I begin fighting, my power will build back up.”
“But he can take it away again, unless we figure out how he’s doing it and stop him.”
“Exactly.”
Cael looked at the sword again. “I’ll get Kyran and Talin on it.”
“You don’t like being around the sword, do you?”
His head snapped back to her. “I feel something from it, but it doesn’t make me want to move away. Why?”
“It has always repelled Fae. Why do you think there were none in Killarney? It should affect you, as well.”
He lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “Perhaps before, but I’m a Reaper, which means, I’m part of you.” Cael suddenly frowned as he thought of something. “You didn’t take away Bran’s Reaper abilities.”
“You know I didn’t.”
“Aye, but if you had, he wouldn’t want to be around the sword.”
Erith had made many mistakes in her long life. Not taking away Bran’s Reaper powers before she threw him into the Netherworld was one of them. She’d wanted him to suffer, so she allowed the magic she’d given him to remain in order to draw out his torture instead of his life ending too soon.
She walked past Cael to the sword. Right before she wrapped her fingers around the pommel, she hesitated for just a heartbeat. The moment her fingers closed around the cool metal, she felt the power of the blade.
“I made this,” she said and lifted the weapon. She turned to face Cael. “This is part of me. With each life this blade took, it grew stronger with me. Just holding it replenishes some of what Bran took from me.”
Cael grinned. “Good.”
“It will be enough to restore me before we go into battle, but that’s not why I told you all of that.”
“Then why?”
“Because I want you to know that Bran will never be able to hold this weapon. I allowed Ettie to use it when Bran came for her. If Bran tries to do anything with this weapon, he’s in for a big surprise.”
Cael nodded solemnly. “I’ll let the other Reapers know not to touch it.”
She lowered her arm so the point of the sword was directed at the ground. “I don’t want to draw this war between Bran and me out any longer.”
“Give me a little time to talk to Xaneth. And perhaps find the Dark who could also help us.”
“I won’t force either of those Fae to fight for me. Everyone who joins us must do it of their own free will. Otherwise, Bran will be able to turn them.”
Cael’s lips twisted into a rueful smile. “I suppose that means you won’t convince Xaneth to join us?”
Erith shook her head. “You also need to make sure the women are secure. Especially River. I won’t have Bran taking the baby.”
“My men are already working on that.”
“And what of you?” she asked. “What do you intend to do?”
He gave her a flat look. “Remain with you.”
“Bran can’t get into this realm.”
“I don’t care. I’m not leaving.”
Cael would never know how his words gave her courage. “You’re a leader, Cael. Go to your men. With them is where you’re supposed to be.
“I don’t like leaving you.”
“You’re not. You’re doing your duty.”
Several tense minutes went by as Cael seemed to try and find an argument to remain. Finally, he bowed his head and turned on his heel.
As he walked away, Erith kept her eyes on him as she brought the pommel of the sword to her mouth and whispered to the metal. “You will answer to Cael.”
Chapter Five
Eastern Ireland
The tattered paper was smooth beneath his fingers. Bran had unfolded
and folded the ancient sheet so many times, he worried it might fall apart. Already, the seams were nearly transparent.
The page was burnt on one side, engulfing part of the lower righthand corner. But, somehow, this page had survived Death’s attempt to get rid of it. Thankfully, it had fallen into his hands.
It had taken him quite a while to realize that his magic was getting stronger. And then, it had taken him even longer to comprehend that there was a correlation between his increased magic and each time he read the parchment.
Searlas strode into his office, pulling Bran’s attention from the folded sheet. Their new location was a manor on the east coast of Ireland that Bran had forcibly taken from the former occupants—whose lifeless bodies had since been thrown into the Irish Sea.
Bran sat back with a smile as his lieutenant stood with his hands clasped before him. “Can I take that smug look you’re wearing to mean that Seamus has finally been found?”
“Aye,” Searlas replied. “It seems he was trying to find you.”
“Is that so? Bring him to me then.”
Searlas turned and motioned someone forward. Bran watched as a man with long, black and silver hair strode into the room. Bran smiled in greeting to Seamus. “I’ve been looking for you.”
He wasn’t at all certain where Seamus had been the last several months. He’d searched for the Dark, but not as thoroughly as he should have since his focus had been on other things. Perhaps if he’d tried harder, Seamus would’ve been with him the entire time.
Seamus crossed his arms over his chest. “I’ve always had enemies. You knew that, or you wouldn’t have sent me that note so long ago. That’s the reason I spent my life searching for the doorway to the Netherworld.”
“Where have you been?”
Seamus’s face contorted with rage. “You know exactly where I’ve been. Death took me.”
Bran had been ready to kill the Fae if he tried to pass off some lie. The fact that Seamus answered honestly was a plus, but it was far from guaranteeing his life.
“And?” Bran pressed. “How did you get free?”
Seamus smirked, his red eyes brightening with glee. “She grew weak. So weak, that I was able to throw off her magic. I tried to kill her, but I wasn’t able to. However, I did escape, and immediately came looking for you.”
Bran leaned an elbow on the arm of his chair and propped his chin in his fist. “And the Reapers? They didn’t come after you?”
“I’ve been staying out of sight and using all the magic I know to keep them away.”
“You didn’t keep the Reapers away,” Searlas said, derision dripping from his words. “They’re protecting Death instead of looking for your ugly arse.”
Bran smiled as the two men glared at each other. “I have to agree with Searlas. The Reapers haven’t come for you because they’re not focused on you right now.”
Seamus’s red eyes swung back to Bran. “From what you’re saying, they won’t be bothering me ever again.”
“That’s right. Your concern, however, should be on whether or not I let you live.”
The Dark’s brows rose on his forehead. “This is the payment I get for freeing you from the Netherworld? Perhaps I should’ve left you there.”
“Watch your tongue,” Searlas stated angrily and formed an orb of magic, his arm rearing back, ready to release it.
“Searlas,” Bran said calmly.
His lieutenant reluctantly collapsed the sphere as he pulled back his lips and snarled at Seamus. “I don’t trust him.”
“And I don’t like you,” Seamus said. He then turned back to Bran. “I’m Dark. I’ve spent my life doing evil. And I freed you. That should say all that needs to be said.”
“You could be lying about how you left Death,” Bran replied.
Seamus shrugged. “I’ve no way of proving it to you. If you don’t believe me, then kill me. But do something, so I don’t have to smell his nasty breath any longer,” the Fae said as he threw his thumb in Searlas’s direction.
“I’ll gut you,” the lieutenant threatened.
Seamus formed a ball of magic in each hand. “Bring it on, fekker.”
Bran watched the exchange, his attention locked on Seamus. He’d known of the Fae while he’d been a Reaper. There hadn’t been anything Seamus couldn’t procure for any Dark who came to him. For the right price.
The moment Bran had told his lover who he was, he’d written the note Seamus had mentioned earlier and took it to a group of Dark Fae who delivered messages. The day he didn’t check in with them, was the day they were to present the note to Seamus.
“Enough,” Bran said. When neither Fae backed down, he got to his feet and slammed his hands on the desk. “I said, enough!”
Searlas was the first to face Bran. Seamus took a little longer. Another few minutes were spent in silence as Bran walked around Seamus.
Finally, he turned to Searlas. “Leave.”
The Dark wasn’t pleased with the command, but Searlas did as he was told. Once Bran was alone with Seamus, the Fae relaxed, his anger evaporating.
“Sorry, Bran, but I really despise him.”
Bran nodded and walked back to his desk, turning to face Seamus before leaning against the edge. “Searlas doesn’t believe your story.”
“I’ve no reason to lie to you. As I said, I’m a Dark.”
“But she’s Death.”
Seamus shrugged as he frowned. “And, apparently, dying. Her power is waning significantly. Whatever fear I had of her left quickly.”
“What did you tell her?”
“The truth. She asked how I freed you. There was no reason not to tell her.”
“I suppose,” Bran said as he gripped the desk on either side of him. “What else?”
Seamus’s cheeks puffed out as he blew out a breath. “She wanted to know about you. I didn’t spend much time with you after you were freed, so I had nothing to tell her.”
“You forget, I was a Reaper.”
“I’ve not forgotten anything,” Seamus said.
Bran paused, his gaze steely. “I know full well Death’s ability to get others to talk. There’s no way that she gave up on you so willingly.”
“She didn’t have to try hard to get me to tell her what she wanted to know. I told her everything,” Seamus said. “The fact that I left you and went back to my cottage was a good thing. I knew nothing of your plans, who you were with, or where you were going.”
“So you couldn’t tell her anything.” Bran drew in a deep breath. Maybe Seamus was telling the truth.
The Dark grinned. “She realized pretty quickly that I had no information for her. She even sent Cael to talk to me.”
“Oh?” The hatred Bran felt for Cael surpassed even what he had for Death.
“I’m not sure at all why he’s the leader of the Reapers. He lacks what it takes to make others do what he wants.”
The desk creaked as Bran’s hold tightened. “I knew the moment Cael became a Reaper that he was Death’s favorite.”
“For the most part, they left me alone after they got what they wanted. Death would visit me every so often and see if I could tell her anything I might have forgotten. That’s how I saw her weakening.”
Bran raised a brow. “Is that so?”
“She didn’t have me in chains or even in a cell of any kind. I had free rein of the place.”
“What place?”
Seamus twisted his lips. “The only thing I saw was the tower I was in. The only Reaper who came was Cael, and he rarely visited. So, when Death got weak enough, it was easy to bust through her magic and escape.”
“You’re lucky she didn’t throw you into the Netherworld.”
Seamus’s smile was wide as he said, “Because I knew how to get out. I did worry that she might kill me.”
“Death doesn’t get blood on her hands.” Bran pushed away from the desk and walked around it to sit in his chair again. “At least not anymore. She leaves that to the Reapers.”
“You said if I freed you that I’d never have to fear my enemies again. I’m here for payment.”
Bran raised a brow. “Cheeky.”
“Straightforward. You set the terms, I accepted.”
“So you did.” Bran looked at the folded paper before him on the desk as he tried to find the lies in Seamus’s story. Luckily, he couldn’t find any. He lifted his gaze to the Dark. “Shall I decree to all Fae to leave you alone?”
Seamus shook his head as he grinned. “I want to help you fight Death and the Reapers. I spent more years than I want to admit, fearing the stories of the Reapers. And then to learn they’re true. . . . No one should have the right to judge us.”
“I’ll allow you to join us, but it’ll be up to you and Searlas to work out something. I’m not going to be breaking up your fights at every turn.”
“You won’t need to.”
“I’ll hold you to that promise.”
Seamus flashed a smile before he pivoted and left the room. A moment later, Searlas returned, looking even crankier than usual.
“Can I kill him now?” Searlas asked.
Bran shook his head. “He’s joining us.”
“You believe him?” his lieutenant asked in disbelief.
“I do. Is there a problem with that?”
Searlas wisely kept his mouth shut and shook his head.
“Good,” Bran replied. “I expect you to keep a rein on that temper of yours when it comes to Seamus.”
“You make it sound as though he’ll be used instead of the other Dark.”
Bran held back his grin since he knew the fury that was coming. “Because he will.”
Searlas’s red eyes blazed with rage as his nostrils flared. But despite the explosion of words he obviously wanted to say, he managed to keep silent.
“I’m well aware that he could be a spy, but I also know that Death is growing very weak. With no Reapers or chains to hold Seamus, there’s a good chance that his story is all true.”
Searlas remained quiet, a testament to how angry he was.
“I also want to know what he saw while with Erith. There are little things Death might have said or done in front of him that Seamus isn’t thinking of now. I want to give him some time to settle in before I start grilling him about such things.” Bran leaned forward to put his forearms on the desk. “Don’t worry, Searlas, you’ll be with me every time. And if Seamus is lying, you get to torture him.”